


Magnus' Bane

by I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own



Series: Malec One Shots [30]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Description of Suicide Attempt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Ooops, Suicide, at least not at the moment, except you know self inflicted..., kind of canon typical violence, like immediately post break up, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-19 20:03:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own/pseuds/I_have_a_Mycroft_of_my_very_own
Summary: The straw that broke the camel's back. The drop that spilled the drink.The final nail in the coffin.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Malec One Shots [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1027613
Comments: 4
Kudos: 28





	Magnus' Bane

**Author's Note:**

> I've been feeling all sad and 'bleh' for a few days, so I'm getting it all out before I do something dumb.

When he’s asked about it later, he’ll say he doesn’t remember, it’ll only be partially a lie. He’ll say he doesn’t remember, because even as he’s doing it, he feels like he is no longer in control. Like he is just a passenger as someone else controls his body, but even that’s not true, that’s just how he feels. Like he’s trapped in his body, looking out. Like he’s dreaming, but he isn’t dreaming.

He isn’t dreaming as his fingers brush over Maryse’s collection of antique athames. He isn’t dreaming, but he’s absolutely not thinking as he selects the sharpest of the lot and in a single breath slices his own throat open.

When he’s asked about it later, he’ll say he doesn’t remember. He’ll say he doesn’t remember the sudden, thick, slick, warmth of his own blood splashing against his skin. He’ll say he doesn’t remember the pain and panic that completely overwhelms him in the too long, but too short time it takes for the darkness to claim him. He’ll say he doesn’t remember the abrupt, fleeting burst of regret just as the void takes him. He’ll say he doesn’t remember, but he remembers all too well.

This had been coming for awhile, he’d known. The day he lost Ragnor, he’d known that he was starting down a long, dark path, and he hadn’t been all that certain he’d make it through to the other side. When Alec had left Lydia at the altar for him, he’d thought maybe things were going to get better, that maybe it was just his grief clouding his thoughts. But the hits just kept on coming and kept on coming and kept on coming until he stood alone, without magic, without a home, without a city to call his own in a store belonging to the mother of the man who’d just torn his heart out of his chest. That was the final straw. That was the final hit to crack him open.

In the span of four months, he went from being a man who had everything, to having absolutely nothing. Nothing and nowhere, and if he’d had just a little bit longer to recover before his heart was ripped out, he might have been in his right mind to act differently. If he’d had just a little bit longer to come to terms with his new reality, perhaps it wouldn’t have been such an insurmountable task. But that’s not what happened and, in a moment, all hope was lost and it wasn’t coming back.

* * *

“Well, you’re the definition of a man gone before his time, aren’t you, love?” a soft, unfamiliar feminine voice calls as the void around him shifts and begins to twinkle like the night sky, as a beautiful young woman appears beside him, a sad but gentle smile on her lips when she looks at him. When she moves, the void seems to hug her, shifting with her.

“Death.”

“I prefer Azrael, my dear.” She replies, stepping forward to gently run her fingers over the open, but no longer gushing, wound in his neck. He lets her, even though he doesn’t know why. As her fingers brush over his skin, he feels little jolts of electricity shooting through him. He steps away as she sighs and lets her hand fall. “Well, I was mercy long before I was ever considered the enemy.” She says, more to herself than to him as she turns away. She’s a good three feet away from him before she turns back to frown at him. “Well, are you coming?”

"Do I have a choice?" he questions, but moves to her side anyway, and when she starts walking again, he's in step with her.

"Maybe." she answers, leading him into the unknown.

He doesn't look back.

**Author's Note:**

> I kind of want to write Alec's reaction but at the same time I really, really, really don't.


End file.
